


Oh How The Heart Sings

by Ill_Ratte



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kidnapping, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sex, MerMay, Mermaids, Pet Play, Trans Gavin Reed, alchohol mention, breast feeding, sort of haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24482371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Ratte/pseuds/Ill_Ratte
Summary: Gavin has finally gotten his perfect alone time with his longtime crush, Hank. But as he grows closer, he starts to realize things aren’t measuring up to his imagination. And the same haunting music follows him wherever he goes.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Gavin Reed, Tina Chen/Gavin Reed
Kudos: 18





	Oh How The Heart Sings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdelineAround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/gifts).



The trip to Massachusetts had come as a surprise to Gavin. But ever the career mover, he had hopped on last minute, with just enough time for him to pack a bag and make plans with a friend for someone to step in and care for his cats for the duration of the trip. Besides, Hank would be there. He had tried not to think about how big of a motivator that had been. 

Gavin spent the first day of his trip alongside Hank. The man hadn’t had much to offer besides a few spare glances, too wrapped up in the proceedings of the case they had been assigned. A young man, single, late 20s, had disappeared. The most direct acknowledgement of Gavin’s existence that he got was Hank quipping that the man looked a bit like Gavin. 

He heard the music from his hotel room that night. It was a nice room, overlooking the slate blue tosses and turns of the ocean, gotten more for Hank’s benefit than Gavin’s. The music invaded his dreams, drawing him from a restless nightmare of a dark, empty plane back into the tiny room. Somehow, the window had come unlatched, white curtains fluttering in wind that carried whispers of the same music from his dreams. Gavin slammed them shut before falling back into sleep. 

The second day was exhilarating. The investigation broke for coffee at 3:45 pm, and Gavin found himself at a bench overlooking the waterfront, black coffee juggled in one hand and a chocolate croissant in the other. Hank slid in besides him. 

“Hey.” Hank said. 

Gavin froze. He had never quite mastered the art of talking to his cisgender male peers. The most he was familiar with was exchanging a nod when he passed one of them in the halls. Still, his favorite approach of abject hostility wouldn’t work with Hank. At least, it wouldn’t get Gavin what he wanted. 

After a much too large period of time had passed, Gavin settled on “Hi.”

For a moment, Hank didn’t answer. Gavin panicked. 

Hank’s face morphed into a smile. “Shy one, aren’t you. You can call me Hank, by the way. None of that Lieutenant bullshit.” His arm slid around Gavin’s shoulders almost casually, and Gavin tensed before relaxing into the touch. 

“Ok Hank.” The back of Gavin’s mind informed him that it was probably weird for heterosexual men to touch men this way. The front half informed him that Hank’s arm was pleasantly warm. “You can call me Gavin.” 

“Gavin. Cute name. I mean, better than some of those Aidylghns and Brantleys you hear about.” 

“Yeah. I picked it myself.” The words tumbled out of Gavin, an old joke he had uttered a thousand times, before he could think about the implications. His stomach plummeted, and Hank’s arm around him was stifling. 

It took a moment for Hank to process the implications, his expression switching from confused to knowing. Gavin cringed. 

“Oh.” Hank laughed. “Then I think it’s extra cute. Or should I say handsome?” He squeezed Gavin’s back. 

Gavin nodded dumbly. 

“Why don’t you catch some dinner with me tonight? I mean, if no one else is holding your time.” 

Dinner passed by in a blur of light and sound. Gavin remembered Hank kissing him, first on the cheek, his whiskery beard brushing against Gavin’s own stubble. Then on the mouth, brought on by Gavin’s own insistence. 

He had tried to bring him into his room. Hank had said tomorrow. 

Gavin spent the night in a half-awake haze, the music rumbling all around him as he stared out at the ocean, waves crashing against each other like blue fireworks framing the moon. 

Gavin spent the third day at Hank’s side. Little glances turned to looks turned to touches that bloomed into Hank’s mouth hot and hungry on his, nipping and biting and kissing at any inch of Gavin that Hank could reach in the snatches of solitude between meeting with witnesses. 

Gavin didn’t want it to end. 

They had dinner together again that night, at a little seafood place sitting right on the water, the kind of place just a bit above Gavin’s pay check, but not somewhere he’d feel too lost in. Hank fed him bites of his meal, eyes fastened on him. 

They went back to the hotel, Hank staying in Gavin’s room to “digest”. In half an hour Gavin was naked and being pounded into his bed. The sex hurt, in the good way like how whiskey burned when Gavin pounded it back too fast, and it made his head spin. Hank’s hands were everywhere, touching and caressing and knowing him. He had no hesitation, unlike some of Gavin’s former lovers. 

Hank came inside of him, his seed dribbling out of Gavin’s puffy, swollen cunt, and he kissed Gavin’s forehead before bringing him to his chest. 

Hank smelled like sex and life and leftover whiskey. Gavin cherished it washing over him, loved how it mingled with his own scent, like it was a part of him. 

The stench of whiskey remained when a phone call pulled Hank away. 

Gavin had just dozed off, the barest murmur of music playing in his ear as Hank stroked his back. 

Hank apologized, of course, a gruff word said without him meeting Gavin’s eyes. Gavin caught the name on the phone. “Julie Anderson.” 

The name roiled around his head as he waited for Hank to return. But Hank didn’t return. And as time stretched on, the music only grew louder. 

For the first time, Gavin was aware of it as something existing separate from himself. Somehow, the window had come unlatched again, and soft sea air filtered into the room. Someone on the waterfront was singing. 

In two minutes Gavin had thrown on his clothes from the day before and in another two, his shoes pushed sand aside as he raced to the source of the singing. 

He felt weightless. His feet barely made prints in the sand. 

As he reached the pier, he slowed, drinking in the noise. He wiped his palms on his knees. 

At first, the voice had been too far away to distinguish, almost a mournful howl more than song, but as he drew closer, he realized two things. 

The singer was a woman. And she was singing about longing. 

Gavin felt like he was in a dream. His feet reached the end of the pier. There was no one there. 

Except, in the corner of his eye, was movement. 

Gavin switched on the flashlight on his phone, shining it at the water. The left side of the pier held nothing. But on the right, her face almost level with the wood, was a woman. 

At least, Gavin thought she was a woman. From afar, she looked normal. Well, not “normal” normal; she was the most beautiful woman Gavin had ever seen. And Gavin wasn’t one to find women beautiful, at least not in the way he did right then. Her black hair shone under the flashlight like a night sky thick with stars, and her skin gleamed, almost like it was fluorescent. 

Gavin would have wondered what she was doing in the water if he hadn’t gotten lost in her eyes. He had never realized how much depth black could hold. 

The woman smiled at him, and the music stopped. In that moment Gavin realized he had reached the edge of the pier. 

She gazed up at him. The smile was gone. All Gavin wanted was to have it come back. 

He leaned forward, and the edge of her lips tugged up. The back of his mind told him that if he extended himself any further he’d fall. Her smile widened. Now, so close he could kiss her, he realized she had rows of rotting black teeth. 

Before Gavin could think, she pulled him into the water. 

——————

Gavin woke on sand. His whole body ached. And someone had taken his clothes. 

He swallowed hard, realizing something was around his neck. Clawing at it did nothing to relieve the feeling. Dyed seaweed was under his fingernails, and he traced the thing around his neck. It felt smooth and woven, if a little dry. At the front, a seashell dangled. Almost like a collar. 

He jolted upright, squinting at the light around him. For a moment, he wondered if he had dreamt up the woman, maybe even dreamt up his encounter with Hank. Then he saw her. 

She sat curled in the surf a few feet from him, watching him. Gavin’s clothes had been folded up besides her. Her legs had been tucked behind her, and she stared at Gavin in a way he could only describe as loving. 

“Wait.” Gavin blinked, even rubbing his eyes like he was in a cheap cartoon. The woman didn’t have legs. Instead, she had a long, shiny blue tail ending in a flowing silver fin. “Holy shit.” 

The woman laughed, throwing her head back. It seemed that her teeth hadn’t been a dream, either. Gavin winced. 

Shakily, he got to his feet. The island was tiny, he realized. Just sand and rocks, plus a smattering of scraggly grass and bushes that had managed to remain clinging to the earth. And it was almost completely devoid of wildlife. Even the few seagulls that skirted above them didn’t dare dip down to rest. 

An image of the woman plucking one from the sky and sizing it up gently in her hands before biting off its head passed through his mind. Gavin didn’t know whether to be terrified or turned on. 

“What do you want from me?” Gavin asked, raising his voice above the wind. Instinct told him she would have heard regardless. 

“I want you.” 

“Me? What do you mean??” Fear weighed heavy in Gavin’s stomach. He had nowhere to run. 

The woman smiled, this time not showing teeth. “You were lonely, pet. That’s why you answered my song. And now, you have me.” She punctuated it with a flash of her teeth, but Gavin knew she didn’t mean it to scare him. “Now, come here. You must be so hungry.” 

He hadn’t noticed until that moment, but he was. It had been far too long since he had last eaten, considering how high the sun had climbed. He trotted over, seating himself in her “lap”. 

Her hands threaded through his hair, first caressing, then bringing his face to her chest. She felt surprisingly warm to the touch. 

“Food?” Gavin asked. 

“Suck.” Her eyes glowed. 

A flash of heat coursed through him, both from embarrassment and arousal, but he knew she wouldn’t let up until he did. 

So he latched onto one of her nipples, closing his eyes and trying to forget where he was. She resumed petting him. 

“What shall I call you, little pet?” She asked. 

“Gavin.” He said between sucks. 

“What a pretty name. You may call me Tina.” 

Something jolted in Gavin’s stomach at the word pretty. He had heard it somewhere before. It felt like a lifetime ago. Because now, as warm milk flowed from Tina, and as her arms held him so close and tenderly, he couldn’t imagine longing for anything else.


End file.
